Facing Fears
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Blaise panics when he has to face his boggart. When Daphne realizes what he fears most, she takes it upon herself to make him realize he has nothing to fear.


_For the Piñata Challenge (Trio Era)_

 _Word Count: 1834_

* * *

"What are you scared of, then?" Daphne asks as the boggart shifts to a great, snarling hound when Pansy faces it.

Blaise swallows dryly, his palms sweaty. "Nothing. I'm fearless."

Daphne rolls her eyes but doesn't press the matter.

It isn't quite true, of course. But how could his fear manifest when it is so abstract? Will it simply give up? Will Blaise be able to keep up the illusion that he has no fear?

"Miss Greengrass!"

Daphne steps forward. The hound, which has been reduced to a tiny terrier in a tutu shifts, erupting into a brilliant burst of flames. Daphne flinches but holds her wand, her hand surprisingly steady.

Blaise can't help but stare. Even facing her deepest fear, Daphne looks like a warrior princess. His heart flutters at the sight of her.

"Riddikulus!"

The flames transform into an array of golden fireworks. Blaise steals a glimpse at Daphne and almost laughs. Her expression is half relief, half shock.

"Well done!" Professor Lupin calls, clapping briefly. "Mister Zabini!"

Blaise takes a step as the fireworks dim, fading into a complete darkness that seems to envelop the rest of the room. He frowns, confused. The dark has never bothered him.

More unnerving, though, is the silence. It hangs over the room like a thick blanket, blocking out all noise. His heart racing, Blaise reaches out, his fingers curling around air. It doesn't make any sense; Vincent had been standing next to him only moments ago.

His hands tremble as he lifts his wand. It's just a stupid creature. One little incantation, and everything will be okay.

But the silence and emptiness are so heavy. They seem to cripple him.

 _He's four years old again. His mother walks right past him, her arm linked with a man's. Her eyes don't even flicker in her son's direction as she laughs and leads him up the stairs._

One incantation. A quick movement of his wand. But the words snake their way up his throat only to stick at the back of his tongue.

 _The servants regard him coldly. Once, Blaise had hoped the younger ones would see him as a friend and occupy his time. Now, he's come to realize that they only care for him when it's their duty. He is just a burden._

Tears sting his eyes, and his chest constricts as though a hand of iron has taken hold of his heart. Blaise gasps, mouth opening frantically and closing without a word, unable to summon the charm.

 _The others in his year watch him. No one dares to approach. Once, his mother told him he needed to be more open. Now that he tries, no one seems to care. He is just another boy in a sea of faces._

His wand falls from his hands as he crashes onto the floor. Somewhere, far in the distance, he hears a voice say, "Riddikulus!"

The emptiness fades. His classmates appear again, almost as if they'd never left. Blaise remains on his knees, a cold sweat beading his forehead.

"Right. Well, that's enough for today, then," Professor Lupin, offering Blaise his hand.

Blaise stares at the professor for a moment, cheeks burning. He's already made a fool of himself by panicking now. With a scowl, he climbs to his feet unassisted. "I'm fine," he says shortly, gathering his wand and hurrying off before Professor Lupin can say anything.

…

Daphne finds him in the courtyard. Blaise keeps his eyes fixed upon the book in his lap, though the words seem to blur whenever he tries to read. His mind still races; his pride still stings.

"Blaise, about the boggart," she says gently. She takes a deep breath, letting the sentence dangle as though she expects Blaise to rush forth with an explanation.

"Doesn't matter."

"What happened? It just sort of… It disappeared. I thought it vanished completely, but then you…"

Heat floods his face. Blaise turns the page with much more force than necessary. "I looked like a complete idiot, didn't I?" he asks bitterly.

"Whatever you saw must have frightened you," she says.

He snorts, eyes rolling. "That's the point of a boggart, isn't it?"

"I meant you seemed particularly traumatized by it. It wasn't some silly phobia. You weren't able to face it."

He inhales sharply, nostrils flaring. Again, he tries to focus on the page, but his eyes refuse to focus. The last thing he needs is to hear about how he failed. "Is there a point to this?" he snaps.

Daphne flinches at his tone. Hesitantly, Blaise glances at her, regret souring his stomach. She looks so wounded by his hostility.

Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to soften. "I feel useless for failing." He scrubs his hand over the back of his neck, trying to ignore the increasing temperature in his cheeks. "I guess it's a bit of a touchy subject."

She places a hand on his knee. Blaise tenses at the touch, a shiver gripping his body. "What did you see?" she asks.

He wants to close off. Why should she care? If she was anyone else, he'd assume that she only wants to laugh at him. But Daphne's eyes are so kind, so gentle and Blaise feels himself melting ever so slightly. "Nothing," he answers. "I was alone."

He waits for her to laugh. What sort of person fears being alone? So many enjoy their moments of solitude.

She squeezes his knee gently, a subtle, reassuring move. Blaise feels his lips pull into the smallest of smiles. "You fear loneliness," Daphne says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Blaise nods. It's all he's ever known, really. His mother has always preferred entertaining men over caring for a child. The servants never offered their company. Hogwarts is the only place where anyone has ever really noticed him, and it's because he forces himself to be mysterious, to keep people and desperate to solve the puzzle that is Blaise Zabini.

"You're not alone," she tells him.

He swallows dryly. He wants to believe it, but it's the only thing he's ever known. One little reassurance cannot change that.

…

"I'm not sure we should do this," Blaise says urgently as Daphne leads him along. "We aren't Potter and his friends. If we get caught, we're screwed."

"It's okay," she says, coming to a stop outside the staff's lounging area. "Trust me."

Against his better judgement, Blaise does.

Daphne opens the door, peeking inside. Everything must be clear because she takes a step forward, waving for Blaise to follow her. Hesitantly, he follows suit.

"What are we doing here?" he asks.

"You're going to face the boggart again," she answers simply.

"I can't."

"You're not going to face him alone. I'm here."

Blaise swallows, shaking his head. He wants to bolt from this room, slam the door behind him, and never look back. But Daphne smiles, and she's beautiful enough to silence his fears.

"I'm here," she says again, moving to the wardrobe, unaffected by the way it bumps at rattles menacingly. "You aren't alone."

He stands a little straighter, an almost smile playing at his lips. Though his wand trembles in his hand, he thinks that he can face this thing. Maybe anything is possible when Daphne Greengrass is around.

His confidence fades as she opens the wardrobe. Again, the room seems to fade, and only Blaise remains. Panic grips him, squeezing his chest until he cannot breathe.

"Blaise! Blaise!"

But this isn't like last time. Daphne understands; she has chosen to stay by his side. Maybe it doesn't make him fearless, but it makes this moment tolerable.

He isn't alone.

Despite the cold sweat and the crushing dread, he brandishes his wand, waving it with a flourish. "Riddikulus!"

The room fills without warning. Suddenly his friends appear in the empty spaces, all wearing silly expressions and funny hats. Relief rushes over him as Daphne manages to wrangle the creature back into the wardrobe.

Behind them, someone claps slowly. Blaise turns, swallowing nervously as he sees Professor Lupin. "Well done. Though, it was unwise to face the boggart without supervision," he says warmly. "Ten points to Slytherin."

Blaise nods, a smile playing at his lips. The professor might have been a Gryffindor in his youth, but he actually isn't so bad. "Thanks, Professor."

The professor nods, offering them a warm smile. "Now, go on before I change my mind."

…

"You were brilliant," Daphne tells him as they find a private spot in the courtyard.

"Couldn't have done it without you."

She tugs at her dark hair, grinning. "Nah. You couldn't have," she says, slipping her hand into his.

"Why fire?"

"Why loneliness?"

Blaise smirks, shaking his head. "I asked first."

"My sister's first case of accidental magic," she says. "Astoria made a candle fall over, and it caught my nightgown on fire."

Blaise winces at the thought. "Ouch."

"My parents were quick. They took care of it before I could get hurt."

He feels a twinge of jealousy at that. He doubts anyone would have ever noticed if he'd caught fire.

"Your turn," she says, her thumb brushing gently over his knuckles.

"I have always been alone," he says. "My mother cares about finding a wealthy man and keeping him. Our servants only care for me when it's necessary. I…"

He trails off, taking a deep, shaky breath. He's never opened up to anyone like this. Blaise has only ever dealt with it _alone._ It feels so alien to him, allowing someone else to see him vulnerable. But he's been alone for so long, and he wants to let Daphne in.

"I thought it would always be like this," he continues. His voice is stronger now. The words do not quake and quiver, do not betray his hesitation. "I'd be surrounded by people, but I would still be alone. When I left Hogwarts, I would become a hermit, unmarried and hidden away from the world."

"What a terrible way to think," Daphne says gently.

"It's all I've really known."

She shakes her head, leaning in, a small smile on her lips. "You're not alone now," she says before closing the distance and pressing her lips to his in a quick, chaste kiss. "You have me."

Her words should frighten him. He braces himself, waiting for the catch, the punchline.

 _You have me… until I grow bored with you._

 _You have me… but I secretly find you burdensome, so keep your distance._

 _You have me… Oh, Merlin! Did you see the look on your face? I really had you going._

But she doesn't say any of those things. She keeps her hand in his, the gentle weight reassuring. Her smile never fades as she holds his gaze.

Blaise feels his heart tighten as panic threatens to set in. Somehow, he resists the temptation to run away and matches her smile instead. "I don't mind having you," he says, lifting her hand to his lips and gracing it with a kiss.


End file.
